


Home, At Last

by shions_heart



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, Dystopia, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Reunions, Vampire Kuroo Tetsurou
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 14:59:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8494393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shions_heart/pseuds/shions_heart
Summary: While gathering supplies in his abandoned neighborhood, Kozume Kenma comes across a half-dead vampire with a familiar face.A face he hasn't seen in over a year.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [newamsterdam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/newamsterdam/gifts).



> welp this is an incredibly self-indulgent thing I decided to write today for no reason other than I wanted to write it. I'm gifting this to Asma, though, because I love her and because vampires.
> 
> (the smut came out of nowhere, honestly. I was not expecting it.)
> 
> Enjoy!

 

 

 

 

  
settle down, it'll all be clear  
don't pay no mind to the demons  
they fill you with fear  
the trouble—it might drag you down  
if you get lost, you can always be found

just know you're not alone  
'cause I'm gonna make this place your home

\--phillip phillips, "home"

* * *

 

 

 

The night is quiet. There's a chill in the air that seeps into Kenma's skin, despite his layers. He turns up the collar of his coat, breathing into his cupped hands before rubbing them together, the material of his fingerless gloves making a soft _swish_ sound. He pauses, glancing around quickly, but nothing leaps from the shadows, nothing snarls in the darkness.

He keeps walking.

Moving lightly through the empty streets, he makes his way toward the grocery store on the corner. He knows it's unlikely there's much left, but he hasn't scoured all the aisles, so it's worth another look. Shifting his duffel bag from his side onto his back, he carefully climbs through the front window, mindful of the broken glass. It's only then that he pulls out his flashlight, cupping it in his palm to keep the light from shining too widely.

His heart pounds quickly in his chest, as he heads toward the back of the shop. The perishable items were gone the minute the riots started, but there are still some canned things. The less tasty options that people still wouldn't touch even in their panic.

Kenma's found that hunger does amazing things for the palette.

_Bet they're wishing they took some of this stuff now._

Stuffing his bag full of canned meat and vegetables, Kenma takes his time pursuing the other shelves. There's the aisle of books that nobody touched, as they hadn't been deemed a necessity at the time of the evacuation. He observes the covers, tapping his fingers lightly on each book until he finds one that looks interesting. Well, it looks trashy, but his standards have been greatly lowered ever since he ran out of battery life on his PSP and 3DS.

Choosing a couple titles, he turns back toward the front of the shop. He's nearly there when he hears a rustle to his left, the sound of shuffling footsteps. Tensing, he reaches for his bag. Silently unzipping the outside pocket, he draws out a wooden stake, gripping it tightly. The footsteps get closer, but it sounds like whoever it is is struggling to stay upright. There's a rattle and then a _crash_.

Kenma whirls around, raising the stake.

He pauses, because the fellow intruder is face down on the floor, groaning softly. Kenma shines his flashlight on him, looking for blood, but he sees none. It's a man, wearing a dark jacket and jeans, sneakers worn. His hair is covered in wild dark hair, sticking up in bed-head, the sight of which causes Kenma to freeze, his heart working its way into his throat.

There's no way it could be . . . but . . .

Kenma nudges the body with his foot. The man groans but doesn't move. Kneeling, Kenma sets down the flashlight, keeping the stake in his other hand. He reaches out and rolls the man over, his breath catching in his throat as the light from the flashlight illuminates his face.

It's pale, extremely pale, with cracked lips and dark spider veins extending from the eyes, but the man's identity is unmistakable.

"Kuro?"

 

 

 

 

 

Kuro disappeared at the start of the evacuation. Leaving Kenma with their friends Akaashi and Bokuto, he set off to try and find them guaranteed safe passage out of Tokyo.

He never came back.

That was over a year ago. Kenma had given up hope he'd ever see his best friend again. At least, on the surface he did. Deep down, he must have still been waiting for Kuro, because he stayed in this neighborhood even after the evacuation, even after Bokuto and Akaashi left with the hunters.

Grunting, he drags Kuro's body up the front steps of the porch, dropping him in order to open the door. He pauses, wondering if he needs to invite him in, even though he's the one bringing him inside. Just to be safe, he mutters a soft, "I invite you in," before grabbing Kuro beneath the arms once more and pulling him over the threshold.

He hasn't made a sound after the initial groan in the store, and as Kenma wrestles him onto the couch, he suddenly wonders if he might be dead already. There's no way to tell, really. Without a heartbeat or the need to breathe, Kuro lies still as a corpse. Dumping his duffel bag on the floor, Kenma crouches next to it, unzipping another pocket to pull out a knife in a leather sheath. He removes his coat and jacket, tossing them on the floor next to the bag. The sheath follows.

Climbing over Kuro, he settles on the couch, pulling Kuro's head into his lap. Inhaling sharply, he pushes up his sweater sleeve and drags the edge of the knife across his forearm shallowly, just enough to draw blood. As it wells up on his skin, Kuro shifts, his nose twitching. His dry, chapped lips part and Kenma sees fangs elongating.

Without a second thought, he presses his wound against Kuro's mouth, allowing the blood to drip into it. It takes a moment, but then Kuro's lips press against the cut. Kenma winces at the sharp sting, as Kuro's fangs sink into his forearm. Kuro drinks then, slowly at first, but then with eagerness.

Pain throbs through Kenma's arm, but he sits still, as Kuro's hand moves to grab his arm, holding it more firmly against his mouth. Blood trickles down the sides of his jaw, but color starts returning to his face before long. His lips grow smooth against Kenma's skin, and the black spider-veins gradually disappear. Tingles of warmth start prickling through him. It feels . . . nice, almost. Pleasurable. Like someone is running their fingers through his hair, down his spine, over his hips and down between his legs.

_Oh._

Kenma squirms slightly, but strokes the fingers of his free hand through Kuro's hair, careful not to jostle him. He can feel his strength waning, even as Kuro's grip on his arm grows stronger.

Finally, Kuro opens his eyes. For a moment they glow red, but then he blinks rapidly, as though clearing his vision, and they return to their normal dark gold. They widen, then, recognition filling them, and he shoves Kenma's arm away from his mouth.

Sitting up quickly, he leaps over the back of the couch. Kenma can tell he's heading for the door.

"Wait!" he shouts, standing quickly.

Immediately, he's hit with a wave of dizziness. His legs give out, and he falls to the floor. Kuro freezes, his hand on the door handle. He looks back, expression torn. Kenma reaches out for him with his bleeding arm, blinking away the spots that have appeared in his vision.

"Don't," he manages, before he blacks out.

 

 

 

 

When he opens his eyes, he's lying on his bed. Blinking up at the ceiling, he frowns slightly, wondering how he got there. He's still dressed in his jeans and sweater, but his shoes are gone, and his left arm is bandaged. Running his fingers over the gauze, he tries to remember what happened.

He left that evening to get more food from the corner store. He found something there. No, someone . . .

"Kuro!" He sits up quickly, too quickly. His head aches, and he clutches at it with a wince.

"Careful," says a voice to his right. "You're going to need to take it easy for a few days. You lost a lot of blood."

The voice sounds strained but familiar. Extremely familiar.

Turning, Kenma blinks over to where Kuro's sitting backwards on his desk chair, arms folded over the top of it, as he looks across at Kenma. He looks perfectly normal. Healthy, even. But the memories come back as Kenma stares at him, and he holds his hand out to him.

Kuro hesitates before standing, crossing over the bed. He sits down on the edge of it, licking his lips nervously. He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can, Kenma punches him hard in the stomach. Doubling over with a grimace, Kuro clutches at the spot.

"Fuck, Kenma, that _hurt_."

"That's what you get for leaving me for over a year thinking you were _dead_ ," Kenma hisses without remorse.

A flicker of something akin to pain crosses over Kuro's face, before he covers it with his "I'm always right" expression.

"I couldn't come back," he says, his voice quiet but ringing with finality. "It would have put you all in danger."

"We were _already_ in danger." Kenma's not backing down. He grips the blanket beneath him.

"I know. But—"

"But nothing! You were supposed to come back. You _promised_."

"Kenma, _look_ at me!" Kuro exclaims, standing abruptly. He holds his hands out to the side. "I'm a _bloodsucker_. Just like those monsters that have killed _thousands_ of people. I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't want _that_ to happen to you!" He points at the bandage around Kenma's arm.

Kenma covers it with his other hand. "I did this willingly," he says flatly. "You were dying. I'd do it again."

Kuro winces. "I didn't want . . ."

"Kuro. Shut up."

Kuro sighs, shoulders slumping in defeat. He sits back down, dropping his head into his hands. Kenma bites his lip, watching him, as his heart starts to sink into his stomach.

"Are you not even happy to see me?" he asks softly, hating how vulnerable he sounds, but wanting to know. Needing to know.

Kuro lifts his head, looking over at Kenma in shock. "I . . . of course I am," he says, reaching toward Kenma's face. He stops just before he touches him, however, curling his fingers into a fist and letting it fall to the bed between them. Kenma watches it with disappointment. "I think about you every day. I miss you so much."

"You didn't have to miss me at all," Kenma says, softening his tone, as he watches Kuro's face. For once he's the one not making eye contact, gaze on the blankets. "I've been here this whole time."

Kuro looks up, glancing around the room. "Why did you choose this place anyway? I left you at Bokuto's."

Kenma shrugs. "Your house always felt like more of a home than mine," he admits, biting his lip.

Kuro doesn't say anything for a moment. When he does look back at Kenma, he shifts his gaze down to the bandage around Kenma's forearm. He reaches for it, holding it in his hand, as he strokes his thumb along the gauze slowly.

"Where are Bokuto and Akaashi?" he asks. "They didn't . . .?"

"Not as far as I know," Kenma says, pulling his legs up to cross them. "A group of hunters came through here a few months back. They seemed really organized, and had a really great success rate so . . . Koutarou and Keiji went with them. I think they got tired waiting around here doing nothing."

Kuro glances up at him. "So you've been here for months all by yourself?"

Kenma shrugs. "It's quiet. Nothing really happens. I hear about attacks in the city every once in a while on the radio but nobody really comes through here." He tilts his head then, narrowing his eyes.

"Why were _you_ here?" he asks.

"I . . . needed to get away," Kuro says, looking off at the window. "The first few months after I turned . . . I wasn't myself. I was a-a monster. I was bloodthirsty, practically rabid. I-I don't know how many people I hurt or . . . or killed. When I finally came back to myself and realized what I'd done . . . I couldn't do it anymore. I didn't want to be . . . that. So I left. I resisted drinking blood except the occasional animal I found. It wasn't really enough to sustain me. I hoped it would be but . . ."

Kenma moves his arm out of Kuro's hand, taking it in his own instead. He gives it a firm squeeze.

"That was stupid," he says.

Kuro frowns. "I'm not a murderer, Kenma."

"I know you're not," he says. "But you just said you came back to yourself. I bet you could've controlled your thirst enough to be able to drink blood without hurting anyone too badly. You did with me."

Kuro shakes his head. "You don't understand."

"I do understand," Kenma says firmly. "You were punishing yourself. Just like you always do when you think you've done something bad."

"Kenma, I _did—_ "

"You weren't yourself." Kenma shakes his head quickly. Shifting slightly, he pulls his legs up underneath him, leaning forward to emphasis his point. "You just said you were rabid. You were sick and out of your mind."

"But that doesn't change the fact that _I_ was the one who did it," Kuro says desperately.

Kenma lets go of his hand in order to take his face in both of his, sitting up on his knees. He looks directly into Kuro's eyes; he sees the pain behind them and his chest aches.

"It's in the past now," he says as gently yet firmly as he can. "Okay? There's no use dwelling on it. And you've punished yourself enough. You're home now. You're okay now."

Kuro blinks, and blood red tears slip from his eyes. Kenma wipes them away with his thumbs gently. He hates seeing Kuro like this. All his anger and annoyance from before have dissipated, and he just . . . hurts. Hurts for Kuro, hurts for himself, hurts for all the time that they've lost.

He lifts his leg, swinging it over Kuro's thighs in order to sit in his lap. He wraps his arms around Kuro's shoulders, pulling him close into his chest. Kuro lifts his arms, encircling Kenma, trembling hands clutching at the back of his sweater. Resting his cheek against Kuro's head, he moves one hand to push his fingers through Kuro's hair, stroking the soft strands gently.

"I'm sorry," Kuro says, his voice breaking on the words. He buries his face into Kenma's neck, shoulders shaking. "I'm sorry."

Kenma holds him, blinking back tears of his own. Living without Kuro has been hell, but he can't imagine what Kuro's had to go through. He knows it's going to take some time for him to heal, and he hopes that Kuro lets him help.

After a while, Kenma lays Kuro down, and he falls into an exhausted sleep. After making sure all blinds and curtains are closed, Kenma lies down beside him, curling into him. He spends a few minutes watching his face, tracing over his features lightly with his fingertips.

So much time has passed since he saw this face. Too much time. He wants to memorize it all over again.

His fingers linger on Kuro's lip, and he carefully lifts his top one back to look at his teeth. They appear normal, though Kenma's seen his fangs in action. Felt them pierce his skin. Letting the lip fall back into place, he shifts his gaze to Kuro's eyes, as they move slightly beneath his eyelids.

"You're not starving yourself," he whispers. "I'm not going to let you leave me again."

 

 

 

 

This proves to be easier said than done, however, as the next few days pass with Kuro refusing to drink from him.

"I can go days without drinking and be fine, Kenma, don't worry," he says, when Kenma stubbornly holds his arm up under Kuro's nose.

His frustration only grows, though, as he watches Kuro grow weaker as the days turn into a week and then a week and a half, then two. Kenma can feel the tension between them grow; can see the hunger in Kuro's eyes sometimes when he looks at him. They'll be reading together, or reminiscing on the couch, and Kuro will get this look. His eyes will darken with a reddish tint, and his gaze will fall to Kenma's neck where his pulse drums against his skin. But as soon as he realizes Kenma's noticed, he'll look away and change the subject.

"This is getting ridiculous," he declares, after watching Kuro nearly walk into a wall, disoriented after trying to get to the kitchen to fetch the radio.

"I'm fine," Kuro says stubbornly, pursing his lips.

"That's a lie." Kenma grabs his arm, dragging him back to the couch. He pushes Kuro down easily, hopping onto his lap, straddling his hips and placing both hands on the back of the couch on either side of his head, effectively trapping him.

"Kenma," Kuro protests weakly, licking his lips and averting his eyes.

"You're not going to hurt me," Kenma insists. "You know how to control yourself."

Kuro swallows hard, closing his eyes. "What if I can't?"

"You did before," Kenma says pointedly. "I'm not going to let you do this to yourself any more. You're killing yourself."

"Better me than you," Kuro mutters.

Kenma smacks him sharply across the face. Kuro freezes, stunned. He looks at Kenma with wide eyes, and Kenma bites his lower lip to keep it from trembling.

"Don't you fucking dare," he says, pitching his voice low to hide the wobble in it. "I'm not losing you again."

"Kenma . . ." One of Kuro's hands moves to his hip, while the other lifts to hold the side of his face. Kenma doesn't realize he's started crying until Kuro brushes away a tear with his thumb.

"I'll be fine," Kenma insists, gripping the front of Kuro's jacket. "Please." His voice falls into a whisper thick with desperation. "Please."

Kuro leans forward. Instead of biting him, however, he presses his lips against Kenma's. Kenma stiffens, gasping. Kuro pulls away immediately, the apology already slipping out his mouth. But Kenma chases after him, covering his mouth with his own. He kisses him long and deep, tightening his grasp on Kuro.

Kuro moves his fingers up into Kenma's hair, tangling them in the strands. Their lips slide together, sucking gently here and there. Kuro's lips shift then, kissing his chin, the side of his jaw, as he tilts Kenma's head to the side. Kenma moves willingly, breathing shallowly, as his heart starts to pound faster and harder against his ribs.

Kuro nuzzles his nose against the side of Kenma's neck, just below his ear. He breathes in deeply, and the hand that's on Kenma's hip trembles.

"It's okay," Kenma assures him quietly. He releases Kuro with one hand, taking the collar of his sweater and pulling it to the side. It's a tight fit, but he manages to hook it over his shoulder. He tugs a little harder and hears a faint _rip_ , but then it settles more comfortably over the curve of his shoulder.

"Kenma," Kuro groans softly. "You have no idea how good you smell."

"Don't talk. Drink," Kenma instructs, moving his hand to the back of Kuro's head. He guides his lips down his neck to the junction where it meets his shoulder.

He feels the scrape of Kuro's teeth, very lightly. He hesitates, and Kenma presses against his head.

"Kuro," he says, as firmly as he can.

A shudder runs through him, and then Kenma feels that sharp sting, as Kuro sinks his fangs through skin and muscle. The pain throbs through his shoulder, but after a few moments he can feel it fading, as that tingle he felt before starts to spread through him. He strokes his fingers through Kuro's hair, scratching his scalp lightly with his nails, moving up and down the back of his head and neck.

Kuro moans softly, the hand on Kenma's hip moving to the small of his back. It slips up his sweater, running up his spine in order to hold him closer. Kenma shivers, warmth spreading through him. He can feel himself starting to get lightheaded, but he doesn't push Kuro away. Instead, he closes his eyes and lets the pleasure of the venom seep further into him. It travels through his chest and down into his stomach and abdomen. He feels it pooling between his thighs, and when he rocks his hips lightly, the slight friction he feels causes him to gasp softly.

Kuro stills. Kenma opens his eyes, as Kuro draws back to look at him. His fangs are bloody, and when he bites his lip, they pierce through his own skin lightly.

"S-sorry," he says. "I should've warned you the venom does that."

"I knew it would," Kenma says quickly. "It's okay."

Kuro glances at his neck, swallowing hard. "That's enough, I think."

Kenma wonders at the disappointment he feels. He realizes now just how dangerous this venom is. It's easy to lose yourself in the pleasure, to be unaware of your life draining away. But he trusts Kuro. He knows he won't take things too far.

Leaning back, he pulls his sweater up over his head. Kuro's eyes widen, as Kenma taps the other side of his neck.

"Again," he instructs.

Kuro chokes lightly. "Kenma, are you sure that's a good idea?"

Kenma studies his face, the cracks in his lip that haven't yet faded; the veins still visible beneath his eyes. "You haven't had enough."

"The . . . effects of the venom are going to get worse . . ."

Kenma raises an eyebrow. "And?"

Surprisingly, a light blush starts to spread over Kuro's face. Kenma fights a smirk. He leans forward and kisses Kuro briefly, disregarding the blood still on his lips.

"I like it," he murmurs, pressing his forehead gently against Kuro's. "It feels . . . nice."

He's not ignorant to what's happening, but at the same time he doesn't feel manipulated. He's realized that he wants this. He's never really wanted it before, but here with Kuro, feeling the effects of the venom and the longing in his chest . . .

He runs his hand down Kuro's chest. Finding the hem of his shirt beneath his jacket, he wiggles his hand up into it, stroking his fingers along Kuro's abdomen. He feels the skin twitch in response to his touch, and he smiles faintly. Kuro's watching him, lips parted.

"Y-You don't think this is moving too fast?" he asks, swallowing hard.

Kenma leans back to give him a look. "I've wanted you since before you disappeared," he says flatly. "And if my memory isn't wrong, you've wanted it too."

Kuro chokes. "But I never . . ."

"I know. And it pissed me off." Kenma leans in closer. "I was starting to think I'd have to make the first move. And then you left before I had the chance."

He knows he's not remembering things incorrectly. There were looks, lingering touches, growing tension. Kenma remembers how he started sleeping in the same bed as Kuro, how Kuro never told him to leave but instead held him closer each night, almost like he was afraid it wasn't real. It was a confusing time, with threats of an invasion spreading through the city in whispers and hushed conversations in line at the store, passing strangers in the street. Kuro was worried about something bad happening; he was preoccupied gathering things together for a possible evacuation.

The timing was never right, Kenma knew. But each passing day it grew harder and harder to keep silent. He wanted to kiss away that wrinkle in Kuro's forehead, as he looked over the government sanctioned evacuation routes. He wanted to rub away the tension in his shoulders. He wanted to ease Kuro's worries that something bad was going to happen through his touch.

And Kuro kept holding him just a little longer, kept staring at him when he thought Kenma couldn't see, kept starting to say something, before clearing his throat and turning away.

And then he left.

"I'm sorry," Kuro says now, helpless, vulnerable. Blood drips off his chin. Kenma reaches up to wipe it away gently.

"Don't be sorry," Kenma says. "Just stay with me. Be with me."

"Always," Kuro says, surging forward to capture Kenma's lips with his own once more.

The fangs scrape against Kenma's lower lip, but he ignores the sting and presses back, hard. He moves his tongue forward, nudging Kuro's mouth open further in order to slip inside. He can taste the coppery tang of his own blood, but it doesn't bother him. It's not a bloodsucker he's kissing, after all. It's Kuro.

He rocks his hips forward again, moving his hand on Kuro's abdomen down to the front of his pants. He unfastens it slowly, not even sure if this will work, considering, but wanting to try.

"I love you. I love you," Kuro murmurs, as he kisses the corner of Kenma's mouth, and then peppers the side of his face and neck with tiny ones. Kenma can feel the stickiness of the blood he leaves in his wake, but again he disregards this. He can clean up later.

Kuro licks his pulse point this time, and Kenma shivers. He shifts his hand down, cupping the front of Kuro's boxers and starting to rub slowly. At first it doesn't appear to do anything. But then Kuro groans quietly, as he bites down once more, into the opposite side this time. Kenma again feels that initial sting, but it doesn't hurt as badly this time.

The warmth spreads faster, though, probably facilitated by the venom already in his system. His body tingles, and he buries his face in Kuro's hair as he moans, his jeans starting to grow uncomfortable. Kuro's hands move down his back, stroking his skin gently, which only adds to the sensations Kenma's already experiencing.

He finds himself trembling, as Kuro moves to hold his hips. Gently, he grips them, before moving them slightly, forcing Kenma to rock up against him. Kenma bites his lip, his heart pounding rapidly. He rubs his palm harder against the bulge in Kuro's boxers, finally starting to feel some movement there.

"F-Fuck, Kenma," Kuro pulls away with a soft moan. He kisses his shoulder sloppily, smearing blood across it.

Kenma pulls his hand away, quickly unfastening his own jeans and slipping inside. He's half-hard already, and he wraps his fingers around his shaft, tugging quickly. After only a couple seconds of this, however, he feels Kuro's hand join his own, nudging his fingers out of the way.

Another shudder runs through him, as Kuro slowly begins to stroke him, running his thumb around the head, sliding over the tip. Kenma bites his lip hard to stifle the moan that vibrates his throat. He finds himself curling his fingers into Kuro's shirt, as Kuro licks through the blood still welling on his neck.

"You taste good, Kenma," he murmurs, still rubbing his thumb back and forth along the slit of Kenma's tip. "Like . . . really good."

"After drinking from animals, I'd say so," Kenma says breathlessly, snorting softly. Pleasure tingles along his thighs, and his body is quivering, his cock throbbing in Kuro's grasp, as pre-cum starts to dribble out. He rocks his hips forward, biting back a whimper, aching for more friction. But Kuro keeps his strokes slow and gentle, coating the head with his liquid.

It's torture.

Kuro chuckles. "Well, yeah. But it's more than that . . ." He runs his tongue along the wound once more, almost languidly. "You're delicious," he murmurs.

" _Ah_ ," Kenma inhales sharply, as he twitches in Kuro's hand. He can feel Kuro grinning against his skin, and he pinches his stomach hard through his shirt.

"Ow!"

"Get on with it," Kenma snaps, chest heaving. His patience is growing thin with the teasing. He reaches up to grab hold of Kuro's hair, pulling his head back in order to kiss him hungrily.

Kuro returns the kiss without hesitation, and he moves his hand away. Grabbing the waistband of his jeans and boxers, he lifts his hips to shift them down just enough in order to get free. His hands move to Kenma's waistband then, and Kenma lifts onto his knees, in order for Kuro to pull his own clothes down. He settles back on Kuro's thighs, scooting as close as he can, as he delves into Kuro's mouth once more.

Kuro wraps his hand around both erections, wasting no time in stroking them both up and down. Kenma moans into his mouth, rocking his hips into Kuro's hand, rubbing himself against Kuro as he does. Already he can feel himself nearing the edge. Kuro's palm slides over their tips, spreading pre-cum down over both of them, and Kenma breaks away from the kiss in order to breathe.

He sets his face against the side of Kuro's head, gasping, as Kuro buries his face in Kenma's neck and moans, gripping his hip in his free hand.

"Fuck, Kenma. _Fuck._ "

"Kuro, hah, _Kuro_."

Kenma's whimpering now. He can't hold it back any longer. His entire body feels like it's on fire, pleasure tingling through every limb, every vein. Kuro's hand moves faster, twisting tighter, and Kenma's hips begin to stutter out of rhythm.

"K-Kuro!"

His head falls back, his sharp cry echoing through the room, as his orgasm hits and his back arches. Strands of hot, sticky liquid splash against his stomach, and Kuro keeps jerking, keeps stroking and rubbing and twisting, drawing every last bit out of him. Kenma bites his lip hard to stifle a sob, as he twitches, quivering in overstimulation.

"Ah, hah, _Kuro_." He whines softly, gripping Kuro's shirt at the shoulders, his skin tingling all over. He drops his head into Kuro's neck.

"Fuck, Kenma, fuck. _Fuck!_ " Kuro finally starts shaking, his hand slowing as he draws hot strands out of himself as well that land on his shirt. His hand falls away then, finally, as Kenma continues to tremble in his lap.

"Fuck," Kuro groans, one last time, sinking back into the couch.

For a moment they sit there, Kenma gasping for breath, Kuro slowly rubbing his back with his clean hand. Kenma shivers, a chill running through him now that his heart rate is slowing. His skin is slick with sweat, and he's filthy with blood and his own semen, but he doesn't move just yet. Instead, he nuzzles his face deeper into Kuro's neck.

"Was that worth the wait?" Kuro asks with a quiet laugh.

Kenma considers a moment. "I'd give it a six," he decides.

"A _six_?" Kuro asks incredulously.

Kenma shrugs. "It was just a hand job."

"An _awesome_ hand job."

"Mm. I guess." Kenma bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smirking.

"Man, tough crowd," Kuro chuckles.

Kenma leans back to look at him. "It's okay," he says plainly. "We have plenty of time to level up." He's glad his face is already flushed, as Kuro smirks slowly.

"I look forward to it," he practically purrs, and Kenma hides his face again.

They continue to sit for a few minutes longer, Kuro trailing his fingertips lightly up and down Kenma's spine. Breathing gradually gets easier, and Kenma starts to feel the weakness in his limbs.

"You should shower and change for bed," Kuro says then, moving his hand to Kenma's side. "If you're going to start giving me blood, you're going to need to take care of yourself. Get lots of rest."

Kenma nods, thinking he'll have no problem lying around in bed for the rest of the day. Though . . .

"Could you find me more batteries while I'm sleeping?"

Kuro blinks at him in confusion for a moment before laughing. "Let me guess. For your PSP, right?"

Kenma purses his lips. "And my 3DS."

Kuro shakes his head, but he's grinning. "You haven't changed a bit."

"Neither have you," Kenma says pointedly.

Kuro's grin softens into a faint smile. "I hope not," he says, reaching up to tuck Kenma's hair behind his ear gently. "I want to be the man you fell in love with."

"You already are," Kenma insists. He leans forward and kisses Kuro's forehead gently. "Take me to the bathroom. I'm too tired to walk."

Kuro's grin returns. "Yes, sir."

Scooping Kenma up into his arms, Kuro stands and makes his way to the bathroom. He stays, then, washing Kenma's skin clean before dressing the wounds on his neck. He helps him into a pair of fresh pajama pants and the old and worn t-shirt of Kuro's Kenma always wears to sleep in, before changing into clean clothes himself.

Once Kenma's tucked away in bed, Kuro leans down to kiss his cheek before turning toward the door.

Kenma reaches out to grab his wrist.

Kuro pauses, looking down at him. "I'll get your batteries and come right back. I promise."

Kenma nods, slowly releasing him. He closes his eyes, allowing his exhaustion to take over. He drifts in and out of sleep for a while, and he's not sure how much time has passed before he feels the mattress shift beneath him.

He turns into Kuro, pressing his forehead against his chest, as he feels Kuro's arm come around his waist.

"Did you get them?" he mumbles.

"Yeah," Kuro says into his hair, and Kenma can hear the smile in his voice. "I got them."

"Good." Kenma snuggles closer, slipping his leg between Kuro's.

Before he falls asleep, he finds himself murmuring, "thank you. For coming home."

"I'll never leave you again. Never."

This time, Kenma believes him.

**Author's Note:**

> Eventually Kenma convinces Kuro to turn him, and after a rather stressful first few months he returns to himself and he and Kuro live happily ever after, for centuries. XD
> 
> (He often teases him that because Kuro was gone for over a year, and it took him a while to turn him, he's technically older than him now. Kuro insists it doesn't count because time has still passed for him too, but Kenma says his twenty-three human years beats Kuro's twenty-two, hehe.)
> 
> They do meet up with Bokuto and Akaashi at some point, the two seasoned hunters by then, and they have a great time reminiscing and swapping stories.
> 
> (EDIT: the lovely Annie drew art for this fic! You can see it [HERE](http://shions-heart.tumblr.com/post/155833820460/bubblline-this-ones-for-shions-heart-she))
> 
> http://shions-heart.tumblr.com/


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